The Wistful Voyage
"Hands up." The voice was flat. It was the voice of the stone wall. It was the voice of the law. Elias stood in the center of the hall. The stone was cold. It bit into his knees. The dust was thick. It smelled of wet earth and old blood. He looked down at his hands. They were bound. The rope was rough. It cut into his wrists. He felt the heat. It spread from the center of his chest. It was not...
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